


I'd Be Lost Without You

by xCrossbonesx (StarSpangledBucky)



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Anxiety, Depression, Grief/Mourning, Hurt/Comfort, Love Confessions, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Missions Gone Wrong, Pre-Relationship, Rumrollins Week 2020, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-29
Updated: 2020-05-29
Packaged: 2021-03-03 04:33:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,713
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24438994
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StarSpangledBucky/pseuds/xCrossbonesx
Summary: “Don’t.”Suddenly, his instincts kicked in, catching Jack off guard, as he lunged for him to grab the gun. He wretched it from Jack’s hand, until Jack grabbed him around the waist, pinning them chest to chest. The gun was trapped between them, but pointed more so at Jack, than at himself. Jack’s grip tightened on his hip, as he stared at Brock with wild eyes, his breathing coming out in ragged pants.“Do it.”“No!” Brock protested.~~~~Rumrollins Week Day 3: Hurt/Comfort
Relationships: Jack Rollins/Brock Rumlow
Kudos: 20





	I'd Be Lost Without You

**Author's Note:**

> Trigger warning for Jack having suicidal thoughts and asking for his life to be ended.

“Are you sure this is the place?”

“Out of every lead I had, this was the most promising one,” Tony said, as he pulled up to the curb. 

Brock rolled the window down, then turned his head to see a cabin, hidden by a few trees along the path. It looked quaint, and exactly like the kind of place that Jack might seek refuge in, it had to be. After a training mission went wrong, they lost several of their rookies, which Jack blamed himself for. Brock knew it was an accident, there had been no way of knowing that the platform would collapse under them, but Jack hadn’t seen it that way. Jack was the one who’d been training the rookies that day, he managed to grab onto the ledge, however the others didn’t stand a chance. Brock remembered the moment they had to retrieve the bodies, the tireless hours digging away at debris, with some ounce of hope that there was a survivor or two. Sadly, it wasn’t the case, thus Brock was the one left to inform families and Fury about what happened. 

He’d tried to talk to Jack, but Jack simply kept staring at the wall, his face stoic and unreadable. It wasn’t until the next day that Brock knew something was wrong, the only indicator being that Jack didn’t show up for work, and all of his STRIKE gear was left at his desk. Several days passed, before Brock finally decided he had to find Jack, no matter how long it took. He’d be damned if he was going to let Jack blame himself for something out of his control. Which was what brought him to the cabin, out in a secluded area, right by a lake. It’s been a fortnight since he’d seen Jack, he’s not sure what to expect, yet he knew either way he wouldn’t like what he saw. Even now, he found it difficult to reach for the door handle, until Bucky gently nudged him from the backseat.

“Brock, we have to find him.”

Brock sighed.

“I know. I’m just...I’m not ready for what I might see.”

Bucky reached over to squeeze his shoulder.

"We'll be a phone call away if you need us." 

"I know I-" Brock paused, then glanced between Tony and Bucky. "...thanks, both of you," he added. 

Tony smiled tiredly.

"Just bring our favourite commander, yeah?" he replied.

Brock managed a weak smile in return, before he pushed the door open, stepping out on the dew covered grass. He closed the door behind him and started walking towards the cabin, only to stop halfway up the driveway. Bucky was moving into the passenger side, but looked at Brock once more, nodding at him as if encouraging him to keep going. Brock turned back and continued towards the house, approaching quietly, just in case Jack was actually in there. 

The wooden porch creaked under his weight, as he stopped at the front door, his breathing coming out a little shaky. Brock lifted his hand, before knocking twice and taking a step back. There was no movement inside, in fact the door looked like it was left lying ajar, as if Brock's presence was anticipated. Without a moment of hesitation, Brock pushed the door open and stepped in, his eyes widening in shock at the scene before him. Glass bottles were strewn over every surface, as well as takeout boxes and an array of  _ bandages… _

"Jack?" 

_ Silence. _

"Jack, it's Brock. I'm worried about you big guy. Everyone is. It took us so long to find, Tony's been following up on leads and it brought me here." 

He's met with more silence while moving through the house, yet he can see embers still burning in the fireplace, so someone definitely  _ is  _ there. Brock checked the bathroom, then the bedroom, where a dried up pool of blood was in the centre of the floor.

"Fuckin' hell. Jack!" he yelled, as he hurried out of the room.

He stormed out of the back door, out onto the back porch, scanning his eyes across the dock in a panic. Brock stopped short when he saw Jack, sitting down by the lack, with his hand covering his eyes. Jack’s shoulders were shaking while he let out choked sobs, as the sound echoed across the lake, making Brock’s heart ache for him. It was worse than he thought it would be, Jack’s never been one to cry openly, he usually remained collected. But now that Brock was seeing it right in front of him, he  _ hated  _ it, it was an upsetting scene to witness. 

“Jack…” Brock spoke.

As he stepped forward a twig snapped under his boot, startling Jack, who whipped around with a gun drawn. Brock’s eyes widened a fraction, before he stopped, raising his hands to his side. 

“Wha-” Jack stopped abruptly, then lowered the gun. “Brock?” he whispered.

Brock lowered his hands.

“Yeah Jackie. Man, you look like shit pal. Been lookin’ all over for you.”

Jack did look terrible, his hair and beard were unkempt, plus his clothes appeared to have been slept in for several days. Dark circles were under his eyes, indicating that he hadn’t slept, Jack seemed ill both emotionally and physically. It truly broke Brock’s heart, he’d never seen Jack so... _ not  _ Jack before. Jack’s hands started trembling, as he stood up shakily, but turned back to the lake.

“They’re all dead because of me…”

Brock took a step forward.

“No. Jack, you know it was an accident. It was a tragic accident that no one could’ve predicted.”

Jack’s jaw clenched.

“I should’ve done the training somewhere else. Or, told them to run instead of  _ standing _ there. I just stood there. And they died!” 

“You aren’t well, big guy. We gotta’ get you some help. That’s why I’m here, to support you through this, to be here for  _ you, _ ” Brock reasoned.

Jack laughed bitterly.

“Who the  _ fuck _ wants to have me as their commander if I can’t keep my rookies safe. They had their whole lives ahead of them and they died for my recklessness! I can’t even look at myself in the fucking mirror!” he shouted.

Brock’s gaze darted down to Jack’s hands, covered with blood stained bandages, which explained the broken mirror in the bathroom. He took another cautious step towards Jack, his hands held out in front of him, as Jack watched him warily. 

“It’s not your fault. I know it feels like it is, but it isn’t. Fury wanted me to find you. For Christ's sake Jack, we thought you were gone or worse...dead,” he said.

“I wish I was. I should’ve died,” Jack choked out.

“You don’t mean that.”

Jack shook his head with a sad smile. 

“It’s not too late for it to be true…”

Brock’s heart started pounding at the seriousness in Jack’s tone, noticing that Jack was eyeing the gun, still grasped tightly in his hand.

“ _ Don’t. _ ”

Suddenly, his instincts kicked in, catching Jack off guard, as he lunged for him to grab the gun. He wretched it from Jack’s hand, until Jack grabbed him around the waist, pinning them chest to chest. The gun was trapped between them, but pointed more so at Jack, than at himself. Jack’s grip tightened on his hip, as he stared at Brock with wild eyes, his breathing coming out in ragged pants. 

“Do it.”

“No!” Brock protested.

“Do it Brock! Fucking shoot me!” Jack screamed, at the top of his lungs.

Brock, despite being shorter and weighing less than Jack, managed to shove him away with enough force, before throwing the gun away. 

“Stop it Jack! I’m ain’t gonna’ fuckin’ lose you like that! You mean the world to me, Jack! I’d be lost without you! I don’t want you in my life, I  _ need  _ you in my life! I-fuck, Jack. I  _ love _ you…I’m here because I love you, and I want to help. No one can lead the team like you do.  _ Ever. _ Don’t ask me to do this,  _ please. _ I can’t…” he wavered, while covering his mouth with his hand.

His eyes fell closed, before tears fell down his cheeks, and his shoulders shook violently. He was unable to get a decent gulp of air, causing his chest to tighten, the panic crashing over him in waves. Brock hadn’t had a panic attack in months, but the fear of losing Jack, of almost being responsible for his death...it shook him entirely. He reached out to Jack, who took his hand, then wrapped his arms around him tightly. 

“I’m sorry. Fuck, I-I-I’m sorry,” he stammered. 

Brock grasped the back of Jack’s shirt, his face buried into Jack’s chest, as Jack cradled the back of his head. Jack sobbed harshly into the crook of Brock’s neck, sniffling loudly and swaying on his feet slightly.

“Brock, oh god, what the fuck is wrong with me?”

Brock’s hands cupped his face when he pulled back.

“Nothing. You hear me, Jackie?  _ Nothing. _ ”

Jack’s hands came up to rest on Brock’s.

“I didn’t know what to do.”

The silence between them was deafening, save for the soft lapping of the water onto the rocks. 

“It’s okay, Jack, listen to me. We’ll get you help, whatever you need. I’m here.”

Jack’s forehead tilted forward to press against Brock’s.

“I need you to stay. Don’t leave. Stay with me,” he said, listlessly.

Brock could feel Jack’s energy waning, his body slumping a little, while he held onto him tighter.

“I’ll stay. I ain’t gonna’ leave you,” he drawled.

Jack leaned in to kiss him, roughly but sweetly, even if it was only brief.

“Sorry I-” Jack trailed off, with a sigh.

Brock brushed his thumb over Jack’s scar, letting the touch linger for a moment.

“Let’s take this slow. One step at a time, we’ll get you better first...then we’ll talk about  _ us _ .”

Jack’s arms circled around him in a warming embrace, before he pressed his nose into Brock’s hair, smelling the faint aroma of smokiness and spice. 

“I love you. Christ, Brock, I mean it...”

Brock’s arms tightened around the back of Jack’s neck, his lips softly grazing the side of Jack’s cheek. 

“Shh, I know, I know. Just... _ hold me. _ ”

_ Jack does just that. _


End file.
